Touch
by ChocoBanana Parfait
Summary: She’s still not used to intimate touches, and neither is he, but he couldn’t help himself because she looked too beautiful in the moment, and he tells her so. Oswald/Gwendolyn
1. Chapter 1

Man, I really suck at writing endings. Anyways, my Odin Sphere kick is back, and I needed a break from school projects, so here's the beginning of a series of drabbles.

Disclaimer- Odin Sphere belongs to Vanillaware

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She had never looked so beautiful before.

When poets and bards speak of a woman's beauty, they rave on about her glowing eyes, her soft, flowing hair, or her curvaceous figure. Oswald didn't refute anything they said, for Gwendolyn possessed all these traits and she was indeed stunning.

But who knew that a woman's wrists would be so enticing?

It was the first time he'd seen her forearms bare. In battle she always wore bracers and in their castle she always wore gloves. He had never noticed that her arms were so white, tiny, and delicate. Even if she was wearing her normal dress that covered most of her body, he thought that she'd never looked so bare before.

He must've been staring because Gwendolyn brought her hands up to his face to make him look at her eyes and asked him what was wrong. Instead of answering, he brought both his hands to hers, tilted his head to one side, and kissed the inside of one of her wrists. She blushed furiously as he kissed her other wrist, his lips lingering over her skin as he looked at her.

She's still not used to intimate touches, and neither is he, but he couldn't help himself because she looked too beautiful in the moment, and he tells her so. She brings their hands to her face to hide her growing blush, and he can't help but smile, because he has the rest of their lives to be next to her, to touch her, and to love her.


	2. Chapter 2

I meant to get this out a while ago, but finals and summer vacation happened. Enjoy!

Disclaimer- Odin Sphere belongs to Vanillaware

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His hands were beautiful, not that she had many hands to compare his with.

Her father's hands were monstrously huge, Brigan's meaty hands were filthy and always covered with drops of meat and wine, and the dwarves' were tiny and frail. His hands were slightly larger than hers with long, slender fingers that held her hands in a strong and firm grip.

His hands were calloused like the berserkers' in her father's army, but their hands seemed more brutish and sluggish with the way the held their weapons clumsily, while his seemed more graceful.

She remembered when Onyx had touched her with his hands- she could feel his fingers playing with her skin, filled with lust while toying with her body, leaving a searing, burning sensation which she felt repulsed by. Oswald's touch also burned her, but it was because she felt warmth and gentleness from his hands, and every touch he gave her sent butterflies to her stomach.

Gwendolyn was playing with Oswald's hands when he woke up from his nap, and he gave her a questioning look. She blushed, partly because she was sorry for disturbing his rest and partly because she felt shy that he caught her admiring his hands. She kissed each of his fingertips in apology, blushing harder at each finger and not daring to meet his eyes at the bold move she was making.

Finally, she kissed the inside of his palm and made to leave the room, but his hand grasped hers firmly, guiding her to lie next to him on their bed. He turned on his side to face her, using one hand to hold hers and the other to drape over her side and rest on her lower back before falling asleep again. She lay there for a moment in shock and embarrassment, but she felt warm and safe with his hands around her and soon went into a peaceful slumber in his embrace.


	3. Chapter 3

Her back was always left open.

When she was on the battlefield, it was to show her enemies that she was unafraid of attacks from behind, that she was a fierce warrior who could hold her own in a fight. It showed her subordinates that she was courageous, to stare death in the face but still be able to keep her own ground. She had scars and small nicks on her hands and armor, but nothing marred her backside. She preferred to fight her battles face-to-face and let no one close enough to come up behind her.

But it made her lonely, that she was so unapproachable. Her back was a sign of confidence and strength, but it also built a wall between her and everyone else- she wouldn't let anyone get too close to her, she couldn't let her guard down for anyone. She had to be a symbol of power and authority to her people, she couldn't rely on anyone else to guard her and protect her. She was respected and loved by her people, but she felt so cold and alone.

Now, she doesn't have to worry about staying unguarded, her life as a warrior is over and she doesn't have to put up appearances. She can start to tear the wall she built up down, she can learn to lean on others for comfort and support.

She stands out on her balcony, looking at her father's castle in the distance. She hears him come up behind her and becomes tense out of habit, feet getting ready to spin her around and attack him before she stops herself. He understands and slowly, gently, he wraps his arms around her and brings her back toward him. She's still a little tense, but he gives her hands a reassuring squeeze and places a light kiss in her hair. She relaxes into his hold and leans back into him, wrapping his arms tighter around her. She knows that he won't hurt her, and he knows that he doesn't have to guard her constantly, for she is strong and can take care of herself.

She loves the warmth and comfort that he gives, and she loves the happiness of knowing she's not alone anymore.


End file.
